8 F Y R E ' B I R D 8

4.12.20 who i have been, and who i will become, hovering in this present moment like the humming bird i saw quivering outside of my window this morning. humming birds, in their beingness, remind me of joy, joy perhaps at the arrival of spring, or joy for no reason at all but just because.   i’m learning to relax my shoulders. as i’m learning to relax my shoulders, i’m learning to also let go of what is not mine to carry and leave the responsibility of changing others behind. it’s not my responsibility to change how others will navigate this moment, or the next, or how we will even transform society together. it is more about: me, being me, and changing myself, for that is really the only thing i have control over, and if that inspires someone else, me being me, than so it is.   to be on earth in these times. i do feel that i chose to come here for a reason, and i can feel the ancestors hands beckoning, and i feel the weight slide off as i remember bayo’s words: ...

echo memory :: june 19, 2018 :  i am sitting here, in the mountains and i can smell the alfalfa near me. it is not growing. it is tied up, in a bundle. this bundle is for my use. it is for the practice of archery. i have yet to transport it to the forest for this purpose. the smell of it is nice. it lingers. it reminds me of fall, which reminds me of my childhood, which reminds me of my birthday. as i was transporting it, it shed many pieces of itself and they ended up collecting along the edge where the wall meets my deck. i liked this. i hope it liked it. i kept them there. for the lingering scent, but also for the sight, of something beautiful. of a chaotic, kind of beauty that i feel happens the most in the fall, when things are letting go and finding themselves strewn about everywhere, in a surrender to death, to change, to transition, to life.   the rain is trickling, the rhythms of it can be heard against the trees and the rooftop. playing with each other. the...